


you're never gonna love me, so what's the use?

by pleasekalemenow



Series: How can the body die? You tell me everything (Two of Hearts) [1]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Grey-Ace Brian, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Self-Worth Issues, also. not explicit but I am grey ace and ASTRAL projecting, it is super vague, kind of, there is sex. only at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23490001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasekalemenow/pseuds/pleasekalemenow
Summary: Brian has known Jonny for millenia. They’ve been together in one form or another for much of that. Brian knows that they are an anomaly; over most couples break up even when only given less than a century together. Even married couples usually end things sooner or later, and when they don’t, it’s usually because they know there’s no point of breaking things off when death is just around the horizon. For the Mechanisms, death is simultaneously right in their face and nowhere in sight, so to say that their relationship exists under extenuating circumstances would be an understatement. Of course, Brian knows the secret behind making their relationship work is quite simple: he has to accept that it doesn’t.(In which certain unspoken things are brought to light. First from one perspective, then another.)---Title is from "Lies" by MARINA.
Relationships: Drumbot Brian/Jonny d'Ville
Series: How can the body die? You tell me everything (Two of Hearts) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692739
Comments: 74
Kudos: 216
Collections: The Mechanisms After Dark





	1. Brian.

Brian has known Jonny for millenia. They’ve been together in one form or another for much of that. Brian knows that they are an anomaly; over most couples break up even when only given less than a century together. Even married couples usually end things sooner or later, and when they don’t, it’s usually because they know there’s no point of breaking things off when death is just around the horizon. For the Mechanisms, death is simultaneously right in their face and nowhere in sight, so to say that their relationship exists under extenuating circumstances would be an understatement. Of course, Brian knows the secret behind making their relationship work is quite simple: he has to accept that it doesn’t.

Whatever feelings Jonny might have had once, Carmilla took them in exchange for immortality. It wasn’t a bargain Jonny made knowingly, but he is always quick to remind Brian that he doesn’t have a heart and that his feelings are, in his words, “right fucked to shit.” Brian can’t steal what’s already gone. Brian, on the other hand, is nothing _but_ a heart when you get down to it, and when he is around Jonny he is _painfully_ aware of that fact. He doesn’t remember loving anyone before him, so he didn’t have a frame of reference when things were getting started--nothing to point at and make his feelings easy to explain or identify--and all subsequent loves he’s had have all pointed back to Jonny. He’s the magnet that makes his compass work, and as magnets are wont to do to electronics, he destroys him little by little every time they touch. Because of course Brian loves him, and of _course_ Jonny can never love him back, but he makes do finding intimacy in the ways that he can. Namely, sex.

“Fuck, Brian, _shit_ .” Jonny looks incredible bouncing on his cock, and his warmth against his cool metal might be a poor substitute for skin-to-skin but it’s all he can get. Just like--well, this. It’s a laughable facsimile of the love he wants, but when Jonny is moaning his name, sometimes he can pretend that the next words are going to be _I love you_ and not another bloody expletive. But he won’t keep moaning his name for long if Brian doesn’t get out of his damn _head_ for a minute, so he grips Jonny’s hips tighter than he wants to right now, in the way Jonny loves, knowing he’ll leave bruises, and thrusts up into him, making him cry out. He can only do this on EJM. It’s only when he can pretend his means are pleasuring Jonny that he can justify lying to him like this and taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t _know_ how Brian really feels. If he knew...well. Changing yourself for a significant other isn’t all that uncommon, so Brian justifies those means, too. Jonny’s brows are furrowed, mouth hanging open in a way that is absolutely mesmerizing, and his neck is bared for the kissing, so Brian does what he does best and takes what little Jonny can offer him.

He could tell from the erratic thrumming of Jonny’s mechanical pulse under his mouth when he’s coming apart on top of him, even if he had no other senses at his disposal. Of course, every sense he has left picks up on it: his legs tremble where they’re bracketed around his own, his hands grip his shoulders in a vice, and his gasps would bring Brian undone if he could still have any sort of traditional orgasm. He’s had plenty of time to grow used to the many sounds of Jonny d’Ville’s orgasms, and he knows what each of them mean by heart. A yell means he’s going to want another, even if he says he doesn’t; a cry means he’s going to need Brian to lay on top of him during aftercare; Brian’s name in any capacity means he’s going to leave the room as soon as he’s done. Gasps are Brian’s personal favorite. It means he’s going to curl around Brian, murmuring incoherently as they lay down with their foreheads pressing together. The intimacy of it all would steal Brian’s breath if he actually needed to breathe, and it’s the closest he ever gets to really fooling himself into thinking they’re anything other than what they are.

Jonny eases off of him and flops onto his back. Brian immediately curls around him, relishing these moments of intimacy while he can get them. Jonny is too boneless to resist, and Brian tries not to feel too icky about that. He reminds himself that the end right now is not destroying the Aurora. (Because if he doesn’t get to have Jonny in his arms for a moment, he’s going to lose his mind, but retaining his sanity alone isn’t a noble enough end to justify whatever the fuck he’s doing right now, so. It’s for the Aurora.)

“Want me to cross your wires?” Jonny asks, still out of breath.

“No.” Not even a lie. Good for him. He holds Jonny tighter. Normally it takes him longer to be coherent. He’ll probably want to leave soon. Maybe he should have fucked him harder.

“Y’sure? Really, it’s no trouble. Just like hotwiring a car. In a sexy way, of course.”

“I thought you said hotwiring cars was always a sexy thing for you.”

“Yeah, just hammering it home. You’re sure, though?”

“Positive.” He’s lucky Jonny’s too blissed-out after sex to really track Brian’s actions. The way he clings to him like a goddamned space koala. _Not_ in a sexy way. He buries his face in Jonny’s torso so that he won’t be able to see the way his face scrunches up in earnest at his own stupid yearning. He’s so pathetic. He knows what they have isn’t real. Hell, Jonny probably thinks what they _have_ is just sex, since he’s made it incredibly clear that he isn’t interested in or capable of anything more than that. It’s probably a violation just for Brian to be viewing this as more than that and not telling him, but if he thinks of the end as sparing Jonny the experience of negative emotions like disgust and betrayal, he can justify biting his tongue about it.

His heart would sink if there weren’t gears and wires locking it firmly in place when he hears the clipped, bitter tone of Jonny’s voice after a long pause. “You know, if you’re only doing this to _humor_ me, you can sod right off. I don’t need a pity fuck.”

Well, mark Brian down as hurt _and_ confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Half the time when we fuck you don’t even give a shit about getting off, and then after you’re just silent.” Brian pulls back to see Jonny glaring resolutely at the wall. “I know you can’t lie when you’re _boring_. I’m not an idiot. Just don’t have anything honest to say after that won’t change your nickname from ‘Nice Brian’ to ‘Dick Brian.” huh?”

Well. There’s a whole string of misunderstandings going on that Brian doesn’t know how to untangle without revealing his hand, but humor is usually a good call with Jonny, so…he points at his own crotch. “I thought this was Dick Brian.”

Fuck. Now Jonny is glaring at him. “Do you really think I’m this stupid? No, don’t answer that, if you can’t lie I don’t. Want to know.” And he’s looking at the wall again, but his expression isn’t quite a glare.

Brian hesitates. “I actually _can_ lie.” An ability he should have utilized, if the frenzied look in Jonny’s eyes is anything to go on.

“And all this fucking time you’ve said the brutal shit you have while writing it off as ‘means justify ends?’ I swear to God, Brian, you worthless fucking--”

“I’m not _on_ means justify ends.”

This seems to take him aback. “What?”

In response, he pulls his hair aside and bends his head forward so that Jonny can see. Jonny’s fingers ghost over the switch at the nape of his neck and he shudders.

“I thought you preferred being on MJE. You said it was more like your true moral compass.”

“That’s right.” Jonny’s hands have not moved, and something about that fact makes his breath hitch.

“What ends would fucking me serve, Brian?”

Brian doesn’t answer immediately. Then Jonny flips his switch.

Once his head stops spinning, he fixes Jonny with a halfhearted glare. “You know I hate it when people do that without asking.”

“You know I hate it when my crew fucking _lies to me._ ” Jonny’s hands are _still on his neck_.

Brian can’t hold back the correction. “We’re not _your_ crew, you’re only first mate.” Then he’s gasping in pain as Jonny grabs a fistful of his hair, yanking it back so he has to look up at him. They’re not anywhere in the range of cuddling now, Jonny straddling him with one hand pulling his hair and one hand grasping his throat as if he could possibly choke out someone made of metal. For some reason, his idiot heart chooses this moment to worry about Jonny’s foolhardy confidence in his own abilities; if Brian was actually a threat, he is _much_ stronger than him and the man wouldn’t be able to protect himself like this. It’s a very confusing emotional experience to have your protective instincts flare up over someone who is giving you a death glare while straddling you naked in an objectively threatening position.

“Do you always fuck me on EJM?”

“Yes, except the first time.”

“Why was that different?”

“I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Do you intentionally put yourself on EJM before fucking me?”

Is a lie of omission _really_ a lie? Ugh, yeah, probably. “Yes, and before talking to you most of the time.”

He tugs his hair a little tighter and it was really more surprise than pain that made him gasp the first time, but now he’s gasping more out of fear. It would be wrong for him to hurt Jonny to get out of here so he _can’t do it_ . He knows he needs to get out of here, knows this is going to rip his heart out, but his moral code prioritizes others above himself and he can’t change that in the heat of the moment and he wants to run but his body won’t _let_ him, Carmilla’s coding checking every thought he has, every moral qualm, and locking up his joints so that they won’t obey him.

“ _Why?”_

And Jonny deserves to know, so his own body betrays him, the question compelling an answer. “Because I’m in love with you and I know you can’t feel the same way so I’ve been doing everything in my power to keep you from finding out for all this time since before we even started fucking and I’m so sorry you deserved to know sooner but I’m a coward and I love you and I needed to hold you but the only way I could get you to do that was by lying and the only way I could justify my disgusting and manipulative behavior was by making up ridiculous fucking ends that would let me hold you for even just a minute and I’m so fucking _sorry_.”

Jonny is just staring at him, looking absolutely broken. Basically bluescreening. He can’t hold back a sob at the realization that this is the last time he’s ever going to have Jonny this close to him, and it’s when Jonny is realizing that he should hate him.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters again, through his tears.

Jonny opens his mouth a few times. Shuts it. Takes a shuddering breath. Brian absently notes that the hand in his hair has loosened its grip and is more just holding the back of his neck now, but the man’s just taken a shock. It doesn’t mean anything. “What do you mean I _can’t_ feel the same way?”

“I’m not an _idiot_ , Jonny. You’ve told me time and time again that you can’t feel right because your heart is gone.”

He doesn’t know what expression he’s expecting, but it certainly isn’t _hurt_. “Brian. I thought you understood what a dramatic bitch I am.”

Brian is actually so startled he lets out a one-note laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I didn’t…” Jonny groans, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean that _literally_.”

“Oh.”

“My emotions are fucked because of trauma. Which happened because Carmilla had no idea what she was doing when she mechanized me. Also, the, um, failed bioprogramming.” The way he’s speaking, it sounds like every word is causing him physical pain. Honestly, it might be. “Just because I refuse to deal with my trauma in a healthy way doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s there.”

Now it’s Brian’s turn to uselessly open and close his mouth for a moment. “Isn’t the result the same, though?” He pauses. “You told me you didn’t know _how_ to love anymore.”

“I don’t.” Jonny’s voice is quiet, now. The pause that follows is so long that Brian would scramble for something to say if it weren’t for the expression on Jonny’s face that spells out his struggle to find words. When he finally speaks again, his voice is somehow even smaller. “But I do.”

Brian’s stupid traitorous heart wants to jump to some dangerously lofty assumptions at that, so at risk of breaking the moment, he asks, “You do…?”

“Love you, Brian, obviously.” He looks away, Adam's apple bobbing. “I assumed you knew and were too nice to say anything.”

Brian hasn’t fully processed what he’s said, and he’s not sure he ever will. Tentatively, he places a hand on his hip, and when that is accepted he brings the other up to cup his face, gently guide him back so he’s looking him in the eyes. The corners of his lips twitch up ever-so-slightly. “It wouldn’t be very nice for me to hide my love from you, now, would it?”

Jonny laughs just a bit too loud. “Proper dick move, if you ask me. Can’t imagine why one would ever do something like that.”

Brian wants to keep bantering, but right now the Right Thing To Do is something else entirely, so he can’t stop himself from saying, “I _love_ you, Jonny.”

Jonny smiles, and kisses him in lieu of a response, which Brian wants to savor but he pulls away against his will and says it again. Jonny laughs, now. “Yeah, I, uh, got that, Brian, I’d really like to kiss you now.”

“I’d like to kiss you too, I just love you so much.” Fuck. He’s been repressing too much guilt for too long. Along with his joy, he begins to feel a bit of panic bubble up along with the same words, again and again. “I just love you so much, Jonny, if feels _wrong_ to stop telling you that I love you, because I _love_ you--”

“Hey, are you--?”

“I _love_ you, Jonny.” Brian gestures frantically at his neck as he keeps repeating it, and Jonny gets the message and one flip and a mighty migraine later he takes a deep breath and the words stay burning in his heart instead of on his tongue.

Jonny is frowning at him. “What was that, Brian?”

“Oh, um.” Brian would certainly be blushing if he was capable, but he’s still feeling a bit sick from what just happened. “You know, it’s, um, based on what I think is right, not necessarily some external moral absolute if such a thing exists.” He bites his lip. “I think we might need to. Work on some repressed shit before I can be on MJE around you again. I think my mind is fucking me over about the whole thing.”

Jonny’s shoulders are one tight line, but he nods and presses a kiss to his cheek. “I believe you said you wanted to cuddle?”

Brian nearly weeps with relief. “More than anything.”

In the end, Brian does actually weep, but Jonny doesn’t run away. He ends up repeating the same phrase enough for the both of them, but this time it’s because he wants to, and if Jonny’s contented hums against his collarbone are anything to go off of, he still feels the same way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change in perspective.

There is nowhere in the universe where Jonny feels more at home than coming apart under Brian’s touch. And he would know; he’s spent several mortal lifetimes looking for somewhere, anywhere, that could let him feel such a complete sense of rightness without any of the vulnerability or scrutiny that comes along with being with Brian. Of course, there’s nothing in the damn stupid universe as good or perfect as Brian, which is absolute horse shit because that means the only place he feels safe is forever doomed to be the place he feels the most clear and present danger since losing his death privileges.

He’s in love with the bastard. He’s pretty sure it’s an inevitability for anyone who spends any time around him, frankly. It’s terribly inconvenient, because he doesn’t know how you’re _supposed_ to do that whole thing, but Jonny is almost certainly doing it wrong. Fuck knows his father was no example, and _Carmilla_ \--ha. She didn’t love anyone, regardless of what she said. His main examples are stories, all ending in tragedy, and Nastya, who is in love with a ship, which is _not_ the same as loving a mostly-robot _regardless_ of any comparisons she tries to draw. Based on those few glimmers, though, he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t be so _mean_. Brian is relentlessly kind, and Jonny doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Good morning,” the man says every time Jonny comes in for breakfast (which Brian, of course, prepares, thoughtful fucker).

Jonny just grunts, saying, “Fucking rude of you to be in a good mood at this ungodly hour,” despite the fact that he doesn’t generally wake up before 11 or come out until noon, and then, when he’s feeling particularly unequipped to deal with the soft, domestic thing that blooms tender in his chest when he sees Brian’s flour-dusted apron, he usually shoots him for good measure.

He’s an idiot.

It’s probably for the best that Brian won’t ever be saddled with the same feelings for _him_ . Brian actually has, you know, _value_ , and he’s emotionally healthy enough to realize it, so he _must_ know that Jonny has nothing of worth to him. Unfortunately for him, and luckily for Jonny, he’s also too nice for his own damn good, and Carmilla didn’t leave Jonny any restrictions on taking advantage of kindness. Which is how he keeps ending up in Brian’s bed, taking all the kindness he can get and giving nothing back, save a few desperate cries and the occasional moment of electronic competence.

Jonny is a selfish bastard at heart, so he’s mostly able to shove all that back to the back of his head while riding Brian’s cock until the gears in his heart are straining from the effort.

“Fuck, Brian.” He doesn’t deserve to have his name on his lips, doesn’t deserve to feel his immovable frame beneath him as he makes a mess of himself, but Brian generously allows it. He comes down on his harder-than-rock cock again, impaling himself on it, and he swears he can see sparks behind his vision. “ _Shit_.”

Brian doesn’t respond, just beholding the spectacle impassively. He’ll have a meltdown about his unreadable expression later, but for now, it’s _hot_ , something about Brian being completely unmoved by Jonny’s desperate grasps at pleasure making heat coil deep and low in his gut along with disgust at himself. Which, you know, also turns to horniness, because nothing about Jonny is healthy and he’s come to terms with that at this point. Just when he’s starting to near the precipice, Brian grips his hips with blistering intensity, driving up into him so hard he doesn’t want to think about what the repercussions would be without his healing, but as it stands, hurts _deliciously_ . Then his lips find Jonny’s neck, and it’s all over. He manages to keep Brian’s name off his lips (which is good, because he wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes if he went _there_ again), but it’s only because he’s struggling to catch his breath between the waves of pleasure he’s drowning under. Every muscle in his body tenses up like they’re trying to imitate Brian’s steel physique, then they all turn to mush and he barely manages to get off of him in time before flopping uselessly on his back. Brian wraps himself around him, like he always does, because one time he caught Jonny weeping in the hallway outside Brian’s bedroom after a hookup and said something about the importance of aftercare and has done this ever since. Because he’s _nice_ . He’s nicer than Jonny deserves. Because Jonny is taking advantage of him, he _has_ to know that, because Brian might go along with it but he never says he _wants_ it, because he can’t lie, not when he’s _Nice_ Brian, and it’s the same reason he engages with the obligatory aftercare while avoiding any conversation or eye contact until Jonny eventually succumbs to his anxiety-nausea and bails. 

“Want me to cross your wires?” he manages.

“No,” Brian says, and then doesn’t elaborate.

He feels a pressure on his chest that is nowhere near as comforting as the one that comes from a metal man laying on him. Maybe humor will be something? “Y’sure? Really, it’s no trouble. Just like hotwiring a car. In a sexy way, of course.”

“I thought you said hotwiring cars was always a sexy thing for you,” Brian deadpans.

“Yeah, just. Hammering it home. You’re sure, though?”

“Positive.” Again, he seems fine with the silence. Fuck.

Jonny’s still too boneless to bail, but the anxiety is about to make him be sick, so he inevitably opens his stupid idiot mouth and speaks without thinking. “You know, if you’re only doing this to humor me, you can sod right off. I don’t need a pity fuck.”

There’s a sickening pause. “What are you talking about?”

He’s surprised asking that question when he has to _know_ doesn’t count as a lie. “Half the time when we fuck you don’t even give a shit about getting off, and then after you’re just silent.” Brian pulls back to look at him, but Jonny refuses to meet his unwavering gaze, instead inspecting an interesting bit of the wall. “I know you can’t lie when you’re boring. I’m not an idiot. Just don’t have anything honest to say after that won’t change your nickname from ‘Nice Brian’ to ‘Dick Brian,’ huh?”

Horrifyingly, Brian just stares blankly at him for a minute before pointing at his own crotch and saying, “I thought _this_ was Dick Brian.” God. He can’t lie and he doesn’t even care to think of something _relevant_ to say in response. Just a fucking joke. The lack of consideration is out of character for him.

“Do you really think I’m this stupid?” Wait. “No, don’t answer that, if you can’t lie I don’t. Want to know.” He can’t stand to look at Brian’s deer-in-headlights expression anymore. He really might be sick. He deserves this, honestly, but it sucks absolute shit.

After a moment, Brian mumbles, “I actually _can_ lie.” And boy fucking howdy, but _that_ changes things. That changes a _lot_ of things.

“And all this fucking time you’ve said the brutal shit you have while writing it off as ‘means justify ends?’ I swear to God, Brian, you worthless fucking--”

“I’m not _on_ means justify ends.”

That hits him like a knife to the chest. “ _What?”_

Brian leans forward, pulling his hair aside to show that, yep, his switch is flipped to EJM. He’s apparently been fucking _Fun_ Brian this whole time. Which explains a few things, but mainly just raises deeply, deeply troubling questions. He runs his fingers faintly over the switch, head spinning.

“I thought you preferred being on MJE. You said it was more like your true moral compass.”

“I do.” Jonny’s hands still at the admission. Anxiety and anger and hurt are swimming together in the front of his head and sliding down to form a brick in the pit of his stomach. He has questions, _so_ many questions, but there’s really only one that matters.

“What ends would fucking me serve, Brian?”

When Brian is silent, presumably thinking of a convincing lie, Jonny decides he wants the Brian who can’t lie to him. He flips the switch.

While Brian recuperates, Jonny tries to get in a less vulnerable position, straddling him instead as if Brian couldn’t easily flip him over and pin him. The thought would have been hot a minute ago, but now…

“You know I hate it when people do that without asking,” Brian says in a grumpy tone. As if _he_ is the one being victimized in this situation.

“You know I hate it when my crew fucking _lies to me_.”

“We’re not _your_ crew, you’re only first mate.”

At that, something small and vulnerable inside Jonny snaps and his hand is still on the back of Brian’s neck so it’s not much effort to get a handful of hair and _yank_ , blocking Brian’s access to the switch and making him gasp, but Jonny steals his breath, too, with a hand around his throat. He is _getting_ answers.

“Do you always fuck me on EJM?”

“Yes, except the first time.”

“Why was that different?”

“I wasn’t expecting it.”

He’s an idiot for asking this question when Carmilla has removed his ability to get away from the answer, but he never claimed to be smart. “Do you intentionally put yourself on EJM before fucking me?”

Brian pauses, and in that moment Jonny is sure he already knows the answer. “Yes, and before talking to you most of the time.”

Oh. So it’s much worse, then, actually. Brian actually hates him so much he can’t even _interact_ with him truthfully. Jonny wishes Brian were crueller so he would have just told him the truth long ago and given Jonny some time to fucking _grieve_. Then this absolute nightmare would be in the past, and he could wake up from it instead of living it.

Well. He’s come this far.

“ _Why?”_ His voice breaks on the one-syllable question.

This time, the response is immediate.

“Because I’m in love with you and I know you can’t feel the same way so I’ve been doing everything in my power to keep you from finding out for all this time since before we even started fucking and I’m so sorry you deserved to know sooner but I’m a coward and I love you and I needed to hold you but the only way I could get you to do that was by lying and the only way I could justify my disgusting and manipulative behavior was by making up ridiculous fucking ends that would let me hold you for even just a minute and I’m so fucking sorry.”

Jonny is falling, he’s certain of it, because he is hardly aware of his body as he tries to parse what Brian’s just said and doesn’t even have a clue of where to start picking up the shattered remains of everything he knows to be true because there’s no way Brian just told him the truth but there’s no way for him to lie, Jonny made sure of that, and oh fuck Jonny flipped his switch and he did _not_ ask and he misunderstood this whole thing and fuck Brian is crying.

“I’m sorry,” the man says, sounding as wrecked as Jonny feels, and suddenly Jonny is in his body, on Brian’s lap, hand in his hair, and heart in his hands.

He tries to tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, that he’s dreamed of hearing those words for millennia, that he wishes this conversation had happened differently, that _he’s_ sorry, but no words come out. Eventually he processes the words that aren’t _I love you_ and _I’m sorry_ and catches something that makes him taste bile. “What do you mean I _can’t_ feel the same way?”

Brian looks slightly pained as he says, “I’m not an _idiot_ , Jonny. You’ve told me time and time again that you can’t feel right because your heart is gone.”

Jonny could laugh at the irony of his own words back to haunt him if they didn’t cut right through him. “Brian. I thought you understood what a dramatic bitch I am.”

Brian lets out a one-note laugh of surprise. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I didn’t…” Jonny groans, looking up at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean that literally.”

There’s a pause. “Oh.”

Fuck, now Jonny has to communicate an emotion. It would be unforgivably rude of him to shoot either one of them to avoid this conversation, and anyway, his gun is in his trousers, on the floor across the room. “My emotions are fucked because of trauma. Which happened because Carmilla had no idea what she was doing when she mechanized me. Also, the, um, failed bioprogramming.” He takes a ragged breath. “Just because I refuse to deal with my trauma in a healthy way doesn’t mean I don’t know it’s there.”

Brian’s mouth opens and closes a few times silently. “Isn’t the result the same, though?” He pauses. “You told me you didn’t know _how_ to love anymore.”

“I don’t,” he admits. He wants to tell Brian the truth, but the words don’t want to come out. He can’t remember the last time he _said_ them to anyone, even in character at shows. But he feels...them, and Brian deserves to _hear_ them, so eventually, through a gargantuan effort, he successfully gets out, “But I do.”

“You do…?”

Fuck, he’s going to make him _say_ it. The irritation, weirdly enough, helps it get out easier. Which is probably worth noting. “Love you, Brian, obviously.” He looks away, swallowing hard. “I assumed you knew and were too nice to say anything.”

Brian is kinder and gentler than Jonny deserves, but through some insane turn of luck--good luck for him, bad for Brian, he supposes--Jonny gets some more of that kindness. Brian’s hand comes to rest once again on Jonny’s hip, tethering him to the moment, and his other hand cups his face with such gentle affection that Jonny is sure Brian thinks he’s going to break, but the gentleness is surely going to be the thing that breaks him.

Then Brian smiles, and he is radiant as a sun. “It wouldn’t be very nice for me to hide my love from you, now, would it?”

Jonny laughs a bit hysterically at that, the tension at last leaving his body. “Proper dick move, if you ask me. Can’t imagine why one would ever do something like that.”

Brian looks at him with fondness that would disgust him if he were anyone else. “I _love_ you, Jonny.”

Jonny squirms a bit under the praise, but can’t suppress a smile before going in for a kiss. Brian pulls away, though, and Jonny panics for a moment before he hears Brian say, again,

“I love you.”

Jonny laughs a bit uncomfortably. “Yeah, I, uh, got that, Brian, I’d really like to kiss you now.” He’s hit his emotional vulnerability threshold for the next decade, at least.

“I’d like to kiss you too, I just love you so much.” Jonny could be reading into things too much, but Brian is beginning to sound a bit more panicked than fond. “I just love you so much, Jonny, if feels wrong to stop telling you that I love you, because I love you--”

“Hey, are you--?”

“I _love_ you, Jonny.” Brian gestures frantically at his neck as he keeps repeating it, and Jonny might not know what’s wrong but he knows how to take a hint, so he flips the switch, and after a moment Brian returns to him, silent relief written on his face. Jonny wishes he could share in the relieved feeling, but he’s just _deeply_ unsettled.

“What was that, Brian?”

“Oh, um. You know, it’s, um, based on what I think is right, not necessarily some external moral absolute if such a thing exists.” Brian bites his lip. “I think we might need to. Work on some repressed shit before I can be on MJE around you again. I think my mind is fucking me over about the whole thing.”

Oh. Hm. Apparently Jonny isn’t the only one who’s properly fucked up about his feelings. It shouldn’t make him feel better, and he’s a terrible person for being a bit relieved, but at least they’re not _alone_ in it. He doesn’t quite know what to say, and even if he did, he’d fuck it up, so he kisses Brian on the cheek and hopes that’s enough.

“I believe you said you wanted to cuddle?”

Brian visibly relaxes. “More than anything.”

The two of them are a tangle of limbs and hearts, and they have _so much_ to talk about it’s going to be _exhausting_ , but they don’t talk about it tonight, even when Brian’s sobs rack both of their bodies. Even when Jonny wipes away his own silent tears before he can see them. They have eternity to sort their shit, so tonight, they just hold each other, Brian’s occasional murmurs of _I love you_ pushing back the forces of Jonny’s self-doubt with every reverent utterance.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! like getting your heart consensually stomped on? leave me a comment and kudos for my gay rights jar! take care of yourself. <3


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